


Insured Against Love

by XerotoXero



Series: Insured Against Love [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Getting Together, I know very little about insurance, M/M, Roy/Ed - Freeform, does this count as a slow burn?, or the actual military, puppy acquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XerotoXero/pseuds/XerotoXero
Summary: Ed has a lot of issues to deal with, insurance, the bastard, research, the bastard, and his brother's pleas that he learn to play with others to make a few.So why not add another to the list? Like a puppy?But when the bastard starts acting weird, that's just one too many problems for Ed to deal with.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric/Winry Rockbell, Edward Elric/Roy Mustang, Riza hawkeye/OFC
Series: Insured Against Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933588
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Insured Against Love

Ed stared down at the paper the nurse handed to him, eyebrows raised in confused annoyance. “The military is supposed to cover this.” He told the nurse tersely. 

He had been just about to stroll out of the hospital like he usually did when the nurse at the main desk called him over and handed him a piece of paper.

She glanced at her paperwork and shook her head, a sympathetic expression on her slightly weathered face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Elric. It seems that you have reached your yearly coverage limit. Everything after that is out of pocket.”

“ _ Seriously _ ? That’s such bull shit!” He growled.

The nurse frowned sternly at him. “Sir, there is no need for that sort of language.” She chided.

Ed stormed out of the hospital without another word, taking the damn bill with him.

* * *

  
  


“Brother, what are you going to do?” Al lamented over the phone later that night. The line from Resembool was fuzzy and cracking in Ed’s ear, but it was still nice to hear his brother’s voice.

Just remembering that he was whole again and safe with Winry helped calm Ed’s ire a bit like it always did. “I don’t fucking know, Al.” He said with a note of resignation. “Who knew that the military had such shit insurance?” He leaned against the wall the phone was mounted to, pointedly ignoring the corporal behind his back who cleared his throat.

It wasn’t Ed’s fault the guy wanted to use the only phone in the dorms and Ed just beat him there.

His brother laughed lightly. “That’s not entirely true. General Mustang mentioned that it’s better for the higher ranks.”

“Not that they need it, those lazy fucks never get out from behind their desks. What’s the worse they face there? Paper cuts?” He scoffed. “If you ask me, the insurance should get  _ worse _ as you move up the ranks.” Ed huffed heavily, tucking the phone receiver between his automail shoulder and head. He flicked quickly through the pages of the book in his hands, finding what he was looking for. “Hey, what do you think of this entry I found-”

“Brother.” Al said in an admonishing tone. “We can talk about that in a minute. This is really important. You said that bill was a lot of money.”

Ed let out a loud breath and snapped the book closed, setting it on the table he was standing next to. “What  _ can  _ I do about it? I guess I’ll just have to pay it.” 

He  _ did  _ have a lot of money in his account, courtesy of the same military that refused to pay the damn bill themselves. But just giving up that amount all at once on something that wasn't alchemy research kind of killed him a little inside. And it’s not like it would be the last bill he would end up getting before the next year when the insurance picked back up. Ed was a bit danger prone.

“You could always put in for a rank promotion. You have enough experience.” Al said helpfully. He sounded a bit sleepy, and yawned down the receiver and right into Ed’s ear. 

“Are you still getting tired easily?” Ed asked, thoughts of the bill roughly shoved aside in favor of worrying over his brother. Al had slept a lot after being reunited with his body, sometimes for 24 hours straight. He told Ed before that he was back to normal now, but the alchemist wouldn’t believe that unless he saw it with his own eyes.

Maybe he should find an excuse to head in Resembool’s direction?

“ _ Brother _ , I’m  _ fine _ .” Al insisted. “I was just up early this morning helping Winry with Mr. Copeland’s arm. He jammed a gear yesterday and needed to be able to help with the harvest today, so...”

Ed snorted. He remembered Norton Copeland. That guy had screamed loud enough for them to hear from their house while his automail arm got installed when they were kids. Ed had been almost impressed. It’d been the first surgery Winry had been allowed to see, and she found them the next day with stars in her eyes and a new career all planned out. “So you got stuck with the early shift so he could get to the fields in time.” He finished for his brother. “Just tell him to be careful around the baler if he doesn’t want to lose the other arm.”

“Winry reminded him. Very loudly. She didn’t use the wrench on him like she does on you, though.” Al informed him cheerfully. “Now stop trying to distract me. What do you think about getting a promotion.” At Ed’s annoyed sound, his brother laughed merrily. “Well, if you don’t want to get a promotion yourself, you could always marry someone higher up.”

Ed grunted in confused disgust (Al kind of sounded like he had someone specific in mind for his older brother to marry, and Ed was  _ not _ going to ask), and the corporal tapped his foot impatiently. He was tempted to step on the tapping foot with his own automail one. That’d keep it still. “If I get promoted, they’ll start making me wear that stupid ass uniform. You know I don’t look good in blue.” He wasn’t giving the other suggestion the grace of responding to it.

“You look good in anything.” Al corrected. Ed rolled his eyes but smiled helplessly. His brother never let him say anything negative against himself. “Now I can hear someone else waiting for the phone, so you should let them have it.”

The corporal apparently chose that moment to lose his patience with waiting his turn, and tapped Ed on the shoulder roughly. The blond glared at him over that shoulder and ground out into the receiver. “Oh, I’ll let him have it alright.”

The soldier, who apparently only just realized who he was bothering, raised both hands and stepped back quickly, his eyes wide. “Sorry, Major Elric. I’ll uh… go… somewhere… else.” He walked off stiffly before Ed could respond, back military straight.

Seriously, who couldn’t recognize him anymore, even from the back? Ed got accosted in the street by  _ strangers _ now after that whole Father thing. The fact that the guy was in the same fucking dorm as him and still didn’t know who he was until he turned around told Ed all he needed to know about why the guy was still just a corporal.

“Brother, did you scare that person away?” Al’s voice reminded him of the phone he was holding.

Ed shrugged, not that his brother could see it. “Eh, I just looked at him and he ran away with his tail between his legs. S’not my fault.”

Al’s sigh was gusty over the line.

* * *

  
  


Ed was in a marginally better mood in the morning, talking to Al, even on the phone, tended to do that. By the time he finished his first cup of coffee he was actually whistling when he walked into the office. It was wildly out of tune, and some people he passed in the halls shot him disapproving looks before realizing who he was and scurrying away without a word. He was getting that reaction a lot, lately.

“Good morning Edward.” Hawkeye said when he opened the door. She didn’t even look up, didn’t have to. Nobody else opened doors with quite the same level of violence as the Fullmetal Alchemist could. Hawkeye was the only one in the main office because she was of the opinion that if you were ‘on time’ then you were unforgivably late. "I heard you coming up the hallway, it's nice to know you're not good at _ everything _ .” 

“Everybody’s a critic.” Ed quipped. She looked up at him and though her face was blank, he could see a twitch at the corner of her lips. “Is General Bastard in? I’ve got something I want to yell-" She quirked an eyebrow at him and he quickly changed tactics, "I mean,  _ talk _ to him about. At a reasonable level.” He waved the hospital bill. 

Havoc, Mustang’s bitch when it came to chauffeuring the bastard, wasn’t around. But that didn’t really mean much. The man had been sternly forbidden from smoking in the office by Hawkeye, and so now he spent a good portion of his day wherever people were allowed to smoke.

Ed had tried it once, egged on by Havoc, but found it… bad. The lung pain and coughing that lasted for the rest of that day just weren’t something he saw the point of.

Hawkeye jerked her chin in the direction of the only other office door. The heavy wood was already dented in a few places at the bottom, courtesy of Ed. “You’ll only have a few minutes with him, he’s got a meeting with Fuhrer Grumman at 0830 so I’m going to have to get him out of the office at 0810 so he makes it in time.” She warned.

It didn’t take 20 minutes to walk from here to Grumman’s office, but Ed figured that she was allowing for the time Mustang would get ‘distracted’ on the way. Fucking skirt hound.

Ed pulled at the metal chain and glanced at the connected watch, noting it was 8 now. That was fine, he could get a lot of yelling done in 10 minutes. With a wave of acknowledgement in the woman’s direction he kicked open the General’s office door, adding another dent to the collection. The man startled into a sitting position from where he was slumped down on his desk, a paper stuck to his cheek. He blinked muzzily in Ed’s direction for a moment before pulling the paper off and clearing his throat.

For a man who was quickly approaching 40, the bastard didn’t even have the grace to look his age. There was not a single strand of gray in the slightly mussed balk hair, or evidence of a line on his face.

“You’re not Captain Hawkeye.” Mustang said in an accusatory tone after a moment.

Ed snorted and stalked forward, slapping the bill on the desk the man had obviously just been sleeping on and throwing himself down in his customary chair in front of it. “Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ as obnoxiously as he could, because he knew it annoyed the other man. “Now explain that.” Ed jabbed a metal finger in the bill’s direction.

Mustang picked up the paper and squinted at it, alertness coming slowly to him. Ed had no idea how the guy got so far in life without getting killed, if that was how long it took him to wake up. You’d think his experience in both the war and the Promised Day would have broken him of that.

“It looks like a hospital bill.” The bastard said slowly after a minute.

Ed closed his eyes, praying to a God he didn’t believe in for patience. Sure, he told Hawkeye he was going to yell, but Al had pleaded for him to  _ try _ to be more polite to the General. “Yes, it is.” He growled, keeping his voice at an objectively reasonable volume. “Why am I the one who got it?”

Mustang yawned widely. “I guess your insurance premium ran out. You  _ do _ get sent to the hospital a lot.”

“Yeah, while I’m doing shit for the military! So they should be the ones to pay!” Okay, so he was shouting now. Al would give him a very disapproving look if he was here.

The General eyed him lazily and didn’t really react to the sudden increase in volume. “You know, this usually isn’t a problem for  _ most _ Majors. Amestris can only fund so many foolish injuries before they just can’t cover it anymore. Then it’s up to the idiot who doesn’t take proper precaution in any situation they get into  _ themselves _ to foot their own bill.” The bastard was  _ trying  _ to make Ed mad, and it was  _ working _ .

Ed ground his teeth together, anger rising in his chest as he rose from the chair. He slammed his hands down on the desk, the automail making a dull ‘thunk’. “I wouldn’t be doing such dangerous shit if you didn’t send me out to places like that!” He pointed violently to a folder on the desk, where his report from his last mission was surely still sitting, unread. 

The war with Creta that West City was waging mostly on its own was getting pretty damn bloody. He’d been sent to Command as a show of good faith or something just to bolster the bastard’s reputation.

Mustang had the  _ audacity _ to bark out a laugh. “Please, you would have found your own danger if we didn’t provide enough for you, Fullmetal. You’ve done it before.” He didn’t bring up a specific instance, but even Ed could admit that a few came to his own mind.

It’s not like the military ordered him to try human transmutation, for starters. But like Hell was he going to let the Bastard know he had a point. “Yeah, but then I’d happily pay my own fucking bill! The fact that I was  _ there _ on  _ your _ orders-”

“To  _ observe _ , Fullmetal." Mustang didn't match his volume, but the way he bit out his words, jaw tense, meant he was getting just as angry. "You were sent to West City Command to  _ observe _ everything and write a  _ report _ for me. Anything you did outside of that… well, you’re just lucky I’m not planning to write you up for insubordination.” Mustang, who looked fully awake now, steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, his eyebrows drawn down over his eyes. He didn’t look the least bit intimidated by the shorter blond man whose face was now only inches from his.

Ed scowled. “Did you really expect me to ignore that shit like a good little dog?! If you just wanted a fucking report you should have sent Havoc!” It’s like he didn’t know Ed at all, assuming the alchemist wouldn’t ferret out the dirtiest secret and put a stop to it.

And besides, it had to look good for the bastard that one of his subordinates put a sudden and immediate stop to a sex trafficking ring that was basically being run out of West Command’s basement by one of the Major Generals stationed there. The guy hadn’t gone done without one hell of a fight.

The hospital bill that Mustang was still holding was proof of that.

Mustang set the paper aside, close to where Ed’s flesh hand was braced against the desk to allow him to aid him in yelling in the bastard’s face. “And if you had written about it  _ in the report _ instead of taking matters into your own hands, it could have been handled through the appropriate channels and I wouldn’t have to deal with all of the paperwork and angry phone calls.”

Ed’s flesh fist slammed down on the desk again, making the bill next to it flutter slightly and jarring his injured shoulder . He ignored the twinge of pain. His jaw creaked with how tightly he was clenching his teeth. “That would have been too. Fucking. Slow! You weren’t there! You didn’t see-” 

At least twenty Cretan women, though almost half of them would have been better categorized as  _ little girls _ , and even some young boys mixed in, all huddling together where he found them in that military ‘safe house’. They didn’t even have enough life left in them to fight anymore, limbs abraded by the chains that held all of them to the walls. They just looked resigned to wait until they were sent off to whatever sick fuck bought them. Behind every set of eyes that looked back at Ed when he busted through the door was a deadness that he wished he wasn’t so familiar with.

The alchemist swallowed thickly, “You didn’t see them.” He finished quietly. The scene he’d blasted the safe house's door open to was seared into his brain, just another nightmare waiting to find him later amongst hundreds.

Mustang’s expression twisted into something Ed would almost call sympathy, if it wasn’t on the bastard’s face. “Fullmetal…” He sighed heavily and carefully brushed a gloved hand over his dark hair. The pompous prick didn’t want to mess it up, no doubt. “What you found is just a small part of a larger network that the Intelligence Department is only just now starting to find evidence of. If this had been reported, if everything had been handled like it should have been, we could have used the military’s resources and manpower to do a whole lot more than put a stop to such a small part of it. Getting things in place is why it would take 'too fucking long' as you do delicately put it. Now that you’ve upended that particular anthill, the people higher up in that chain are probably going to go to ground, and be that much harder to find and bring to justice.” 

Ed hissed out a breath between his teeth. “So you’re saying that I should have just left them there? Let that man move them on to the next location without doing  _ anything _ ?”

“What you  _ could _ have done is staged an escape. Let Major General Hammond think that his ‘merchandise’,” Mustang spat out that word with a sneer when he said it, “That they got  _ themselves  _ out and ran back to Creta. We could have then placed someone in the area to keep watch on that house just in case he tried to move anyone else through there while we got the evidence we needed. That’s what the Intelligence Department is for. Then, instead of facing the Major General alone, you would have had backup when it was time and thus would not have ended up injured. You don’t have to do everything  _ by yourself _ anymore, Fullmetal.”

The door opened behind Ed and Hawkeye cleared her throat, his cue that time was up. He gave the desk one last thump (the only thing that kept his fist from burying itself in the bastard’s  _ face _ ) and turned on his heel to make for the door. “If I thought that you would be any actual  _ help _ , Mustang, I wouldn’t  _ have _ to.” He threw his parting shot over his shoulder as he stomped past the sharpshooter. The bastard called his title again, but Ed ignored him.

He didn’t really feel like he won that fight.

In his hurry Ed forgot the bill, the original reason for this whole damn thing, laying forlornly on the desk.

* * *

It had been two days since his confrontation with the bastard, and Ed was once again at the hospital, staring down at the nurse who was stuck at reception with a vein pulsing hotly in his forehead. “What do you  _ mean _ you can’t just give me another one?”

The nurse at the desk was a younger woman than the last one, and she smiled benignly up at him from her seat behind the large reception counter. Her expression hadn’t changed throughout the entire time he’d been there, weathering his irritation without a single twitch of her lips downwards. It was actually kind of... terrifying, yet oddly impressive.

Ed would never be anywhere as good at this ‘customer service’ shit if he had to have a go at it. 

“I’m sorry, sir. Unless you have proof of identity, I cannot provide you with confidential patient information.” She chirped for the third time. It was like talking to a recording.

“I showed you the damn watch!” Ed snapped, his already short fuse growing even shorter.

“And a fine watch it is, sir, but it is not a picture ID.” The nurse replied with the same bland smile.

The alchemist took a deep breath and forcibly calmed himself. He really shouldn’t take his frustration out on the jarringly polite nurse. It wasn’t her fault he lost the damn bill in the first place.

Well… not lost. He knew exactly where he left it, but he hadn’t been back to headquarters in the days since his and Mustang’s last argument. “Can I pay it without the bill?”

“Of course, sir!” She said brightly, sitting up slightly straighter. Figures. You couldn’t get the bill without ID, but they would still happily take your money. Fucking beuraucracy. 

The nurse opened the large ledger in front of her and began running her finger down the list there with her tongue caught thoughtfully between her teeth and occasionally muttering quietly to herself, before her finger came to a sudden stop at the entry that had to be his. “Here we are! Elric! … huh.” She had an odd look on her face.

What could possibly be the fucking problem now? “What?” Ed asked her tersely.

“It says here your bill has already been paid in full, sir.” The nurse informed him, closing the ledger. “If that will be all?” She said leadingly, tilting her head with that same smile.

Ed’s eyebrows shot up. What the fuck? “Did it say who paid it?” 

Did Al send money to the hospital for him? His brother was such a worrywart, Ed wouldn’t put it past him.

“I’m sorry sir, but without photo ID-”

Ed growled in renewed frustration. Getting a photo ID was a pain in the ass process that took  _ forever _ , and he wasn’t about to waste precious research time at the government ID office. Especially since it was in the same building as Central Command. “Yeah yeah, you can’t divulge confidential patient information. Forget about it.” He turned to leave but paused. “Have a good one.” Ed waved at the nurse, whose smile widened.

If Al had been here, he would have been thrilled that Ed remembered even that little tidbit of the manners their mother had mostly failed to instill in her oldest son.

“You too, sir!”

* * *

  
  
“It wasn’t me, brother.” Al claimed over the phone that night. Ed really needed to get to Resembool soon, it had been far too long since he’d seen his brother’s face. 

The one that they had both fought so hard for so long to wrest from the Gate of Truth’s grip.

Ed smiled toothily at the corporal that was obviously waiting for the phone, the same one from the other night. This time the other man was standing a respectable distance away, and the look on his face said that he was prepared to wait all night for Ed to be done if needed. He even managed to smile uneasily back. Ed turned his attention back to the phone conversation.

“Bullshit, if it wasn’t you who else would it have been? I know you don’t want me to pay you back-”

Al cut in. “It really wasn’t me, Ed. I don’t have that much money in my personal account.Not since I built mine and Winry’s house.” Ed still hadn’t seen the house, and Al was in no hurry to make him. He’d modeled it after the house they grew up in, and also built it on the same plot of land after clearing out the charred remains of the childhood they had left behind. It could bring back some bad memories for Ed. Al loved it, though.

The older man blinked, once again turned from the topic at hand by the concern he always had over his little brother. “Really? Do you need more money? I can wire you some funds as soon as the bank opens.” He glanced anxiously at the sky outside the nearby window. That was  _ hours  _ from now. What if Al needed money right then?

Al sighed, as he often did when talking to Ed. His brother’s tendency to ‘mother hen’ him was appreciated, but rarely needed.“I’m okay, brother." He seemed to have to assure the older man of that at least once a conversation. 

From almost anyone else it would have been annoying, but it would be hypocritical of Al to be aggravated by it as he often worried about Ed just as much. Winry often told him that the two of them were ‘codependent’, but for most of their lives all they had was each other. Old habits were hard to break.

"I might not have had enough to cover your hospital bill, but I  _ do _ have more than enough to live out here even after building a home.” Al continued. “You made  _ sure  _ of that. Besides, the prices of everything in Resembool are much more reasonable than they are in Central.” 

Ed had split the money that had accumulated in his account during the years they fruitlessly searched for the Philosopher’s Stone evenly with Al when he left him in Resembool the final time. The younger man’s loud protestations had been shrugged off with Ed’s usual casualness. 

Al had been with Ed the entire time, facing all of the same dangers and doing half the research. The older of the two reasoned that he was entitled to at least half of the pay.

Al had originally argued him down from handing over more than 2/3rds of it. Ed wasn’t a material man, and Al was going to be supporting a family soon.

“Fine, so if it wasn’t you then who was it?” Ed asked, genuinely flummoxed. Maybe the hospital had made a mistake and put someone else’s payment towards his bill? 

“Well… did you tell anyone other than me about it?” Al asked, relieved that Ed wasn’t still insisting that he send his younger brother more money for now. He was making a pretty tidy living as Winry’s medical assistant on top of what was left of the lump sum Ed had forced on him.

The older man chewed his lip thoughtfully. “The only other person I talked to it about was the bastard. I accidentally left the bill on his desk.” He admitted. “Maybe… maybe Hawkeye saw it while she was clearing off his desk, and paid for it herself?” Hawkeye didn’t let it be known, and didn’t show it often, but she was actually a kind woman who had always cared for the Elric brothers. It wasn’t too out of character for her to find and quietly pay for the bill. Right?

“Or maybe the General did?” Al offered. 

Ed snorted dismissively. “You really think the bastard would do something like that for  _ me _ ?”

“Yes, I do.” Al said simply. The absolute surety of his answer brought Ed up short.

He pulled the phone away from his face briefly to look at it. Maybe it was a bad line? Bringing it back up to his mouth he spoke into the receiver with confusion. “Al, are we talking about the same General Mustang? Because I think we might have gotten some wires crossed here.” 

The younger alchemist sighed again. Sometimes Ed kept a mental tally of how many times Al sighed while they were on the phone together. The current record was 10 times over a 5 minute conversation. “Brother, you seem to think that the General, and yes, I do mean General Mustang, would never do something nice for you.”

Ed rolled his eyes so hard his whole body moved with it. “Not if there wasn’t something in it for him.”

“Bro _ ther _ .” Al started, but Ed cut him off. His brother saw the good in everyone and Ed wasn’t really in the mood for Al’s usual ‘sunshine and rainbows and everyone has good in them’ talk.

“Listen Al, I gotta go. Someone wants to use the phone. Give my love to Winry and the hag.”

Al’s admonishing voice was cut off when he set the receiver on the cradle. Ed honestly felt a bit bad about cutting his brother off. “All yours.” He said to the corporal, motioning to the phone as he walked away from it. The man nodded stiffly, actually going so far to salute as the alchemist passed him.

* * *

  
  
"Please let her say yes, please let her say yes," Ed muttered repeatedly to himself as he stalked the halls of Central Command. When he reached the office door the blond went to open it like he usually did, but stopped with his hand on the knob. If Mustang was in he would probably hear the door bang against the wall. Ed was already in a pretty shitty mood and didn’t feel like dealing with the bastard too.

Hawkeye actually looked up when the door was opened quietly, and her eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline when she saw who it was. "Edward, are you feeling alright?"

That question gave him some hope. Maybe she  _ had _ seen the hospital bill and was genuinely worried about his health. "Yeah, uh, I'm fine Captain Hawkeye." He roughly rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. How to put this? Just coming out and asking if she had paid the bill was… awkward. He managed to stutter out, "But uh… speaking of health… Did you happen to see a um… hospital bill around? I think I may have forgotten here last time I was here."

The woman narrowed her brown eyes at him thoughtfully. "Not that I remember, Edward."  _ Fuck. _ "Did you need help looking for it? I can ask General Mustang if he's-"

"No!" Ed interrupted quickly, then quieter. "No. It… doesn't matter anymore anyway." The bill was already paid. He glanced at the thick plank of wood that was all that currently separated him and Mustang. He really didn't want to see the bastard’s face again for a long as possible. 

He'd probably start yelling again. 

Honestly, just that fucking smirk could rile Ed up sometimes. 

* * *

  
  
It was no surprise to anyone that Ed ended up back in the hospital again long before the year, or even the month, was over.

Waking up to the oppressive smell of antiseptic and opening his eyes to take in the blinding white floors and ‘calming’ blue walls was getting uncomfortably familiar. “Brother, again?” Al’s voice, not fuzzy and distant over the phone but  _ right there _ , was resigned. Ed turned his head with aching slowness to find his little brother sitting in the plastic covered chair at his bedside.

This was a bad one, then. Al never had to come to Central. Ed smiled tiredly at his worried looking brother as he took mental stock of the damage to his body. Moving up his body from toe to head, the alchemist tried to clench his automail fist only to find it gone. Looking down at it with some difficulty he saw that, from the elbow down, there was nothing but dangling wires and jagged metal edges. That must have meant Winry had been called in to deal with it and his little brother had tagged along.

He hadn’t needed a tune up or replacement for either of his automail limbs in over a year since he stopped growing, so hadn’t been out to Resembool in all that time. But at least the entire reason he had been planning to go recently was sitting right beside him, saving Ed a trip.

“Hey, Al.” Ed finally said once his self diagnostics were done, voice cracking and soft. Just saying that hurt his throat, the words dragging through it like they were covered in thorns. With a sigh the younger man held out a cup and Ed clumsily took it with his flesh hand (thankfully still present, accounted for, and relatively unhurt), taking large gulps of the blessedly cool water inside.

Al’s golden eyes silently judged him while he waited. When the cup was empty, he refilled it silently and Ed drained it again before he felt like he could properly form words. “You’re looking good.” He tried to sound casual, and failed pretty miserably.

“You’re not.” Al said bluntly with a scowl that could rival his brother’s, and Ed rasped out a laugh. Al went on undeterred. “What am I going to  _ do _ with you, brother? Do you know how awful it was to get that call from the General saying that you  _ might not wake up _ ?!” Oh… it was that bad, huh? Shit. “You could have died, Ed! With me all the way back home with no way to help you!” Tears were streaking down Al’s face now, and Ed winced guiltily. He hated being the reason his younger brother was crying. It happened a little too often for either of their liking.

“Sorry.” He managed.

Al’s blond brows drew together, and the chair creaked as he shifted and roughly swiped at his cheeks. “Sorry’s not good enough this time, brother.”

Ed closed his eyes as exhaustion bit at him. “Well, what do you want me to say then, Alphonse? I can’t promise not to do it again.” He could never ignore someone who needed his help. “I can’t even promise to be more careful because I know you wouldn’t believe it.” The older man finished with another rasping laugh. He fought his eyes back open to look at Al.

His brother’s hair shifted as he shook his head, obviously not amused. Al’s hair was getting long, and Ed absently noted he was due for a haircut. “Do you really not get it, brother? I’m not around anymore, you can’t keep getting into these situations without backup. You told me, when you said you were gonna stay in the military to ‘keep an eye on things’, that you were gonna start actually letting the team help you. You gave me your word.”

The older alchemist leaned further back into the scratchy hospital pillows as his own promise was thrown back in his face. “I said what I had to so that you wouldn’t sign up too. You would have, don’t deny it.” Just like when he first became a dog of the military. “You would have done it just to make sure that I didn’t keep getting into trouble like this. But you have a  _ reason _ to stay Resembool, Alphonse. I… I don’t.” He closed his heavy eyelids again. “I can’t start relying on people just like that. I can’t trust anyone in this damn military to have my back. Not like you.”

“That’s not true, brother. And I wish you knew that.” Al’s accusatory tones followed him into sleep.

* * *

  
  
Winry was a force to be reckoned with as she stormed into the room after the second time he woke up. Ed was sitting propped up, talking quietly to his brother as she came stomping into the room.

“Edward Elric!” Winry growled when she saw he was conscious. “Out of all of my patients you are by  _ far _ the most infuriating!” She shouted, brandishing her favored heavy wrench in one hand while his new automail forearm dangled from the other. Al shushed his wife while eyes darted to the walls to indicate they might disturb others.

Ed grinned unrepentantly at her. “Hi Win! How’s pregnant life treating ya?”

The woman glanced down at her belly with a sort of fond disgust, 5 months along and still one of the few people in the world Ed begrudgingly feared. “Miserable. Morning sickness is a bitch. And the little monster has been using my bladder as a trampoline recently. But I’d still take dealing with all of that over  _ you _ . A phone call in the middle of the night and suddenly I’ve got to get my bloated ass on the earliest available train with Al, who was  _ inconsolable _ by the way.” She waved the wrench threateningly again. She wouldn’t really hit him while he lay in a hospital bed though… Probably. “I swear if this baby cries half as much as your brother, I’m going to go insane.” Ed wisely chose not to inform his childhood friend that ship had long since sailed.

The older alchemist glanced at his brother, who was watching his wife affectionately. The tears were thankfully long gone by the second time the older man woke up. “Sorry, guys.” He said as sincerely as he could to both of them. “I really didn’t mean to-”

Winry cut him off. By her tone he could tell that she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had a proper rant at him. “You never  _ mean _ to do anything.” The woman started in, still waving that stupid wrench around. Ed had nightmares about that thing. “Is there a single thing in that brain of yours besides alchemical formulas? This is the second time this month you’ve landed your ass in a hospital bed! I  _ knew _ you shouldn’t have reupped your military contract! I told Al, didn’t I honey?” His traitor of a brother nodded in agreement. “This shit has to stop, Ed. And I mean it. I can’t drag a newborn all the fucking way to Central once a month because you’ve done something stupid again.” Luckily she got easily winded because of his budding niece or nephew and stopped there, breathing heavily. Ed had taken the brunt of rants that had lasted for  _ hours _ before.

He rubbed the back of his neck in resignation. He hadn’t really thought of it that way. “I could always come to you.” He offered faintly.

Winry scoffed and finally hooked the wrench in her tool belt, thankfully unused. Though that didn’t mean he was really out of danger. She could whip it out quicker than he could make an escape in his current condition. “I can’t set aside my other patients every time you come waltzing home either. I’m busy already, and once this restless little monster is born I know I’m going to be running off my feet. Get your shit together, Ed, and soon.”

“Brother’s agreed to start relying on the General and his men more,  _ haven’t _ you Ed?” The golden eyes Al trained on him were unusually hard in his brother’s normally soft featured face.

Ed rolled his own eyes back at the younger man. “Yeah yeah, report everything before doing anything like the good dog I am.” Al had spent the better part of the last hour guilting him into agreeing to do so, going so far as to have Ed swear on their mother’s grave that he was going to make an effort at doing things right.

Winry stared at him, her eyes just as hard as her husband’s. “Good. Start doing shit right, and I just might let you be named the baby’s godfather. But you can’t be a good godfather if you spend more time a year in the hospital than you do out of it.”

Ed’s jaw dropped open. Godfather?  _ Him _ ? Ed thought they were planning to name Granny Pinako as the kid’s godparent. Winry approached the bed on his good side and grabbed his hand, laying it on her stomach without a word. He felt something under the flesh palm shift almost unnaturally.

Really, the way women could just  _ create life _ … It was like the original form of human transmutation, really. “Uh… hi, kid. I guess I’m gonna be your godfather.” He said uneasily to her stomach. Winry smiled approvingly down at him and Al put his own hand next to his brother’s.

“Yep. As soon as your Uncle Ed can prove that he’s responsible enough.”

Ed snorted and nudged him with the stump of what was left of his automail arm. Him being responsible was almost as foreign a thought as him being the kid’s godfather.

  
  
  


The nurse checked his vitals one last time after he had been confined in the damn hospital for a gruelingly boring 2 weeks. Al and Winry weren’t even around anymore to keep him company, having headed back to Resembool once it was clear Ed was no longer on the verge of dying. 

He had reluctantly requested the bill, but… “What do you mean, it’s already been paid?”

The nurse, the same one from his first stay and not the scarily cheerful one, wrote something on her clipboard and didn’t seem to care about his confusion. Or about anything really. “I mean that someone has already taken care of your bill, Mr. Elric.” She mercilessly pressed her freezing cold stethoscope to his chest. “Cough for me? Good, sounds much better.” She nodded shortly and took a few more notes. “The doctor will be here in just a minute for your aftercare instructions, then you’re free to go.”

“But who paid the damn bill?!” Ed demanded. Did the military insurance pick back up already?

The nurse pursed her lips disapprovingly. “Language, Mr. Elric. And the person asked to keep that information confidential.” So it was just a single person then, and not the government.

Ed crossed his arms. The automail one was whole again, thanks to a colorfully complaining Winry. “Don’t I have a right to know who paid it? Like… to thank them or whatever.”

If it was who the person he was beginning to suspect it was, then that was the  _ last _ thing he was going to do. The bastard didn’t need his gratitude.

The nurse impatiently shoved a lock of graying brown hair that had somehow escaped her severely tight bun out of her face. “No.” She told him firmly, and without another word walked out of the room.

Pleasant woman. Great bedside manner.


End file.
